Left Behind
by Kaiyaosha
Summary: Because Chun Yan with her mangled feet was always just that. Left behind. Rated T for safety.


Short Drabble one shot based on headcanon I read on Tumblr.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or its characters.

The small girl struggled slightly as she clutched the railings, slowly, but surely getting up the stairs.

She had a over the shoulder bag dangling as she bent over, gasping tiredly.

Her palms were sweaty as she managed to clamber all the way up the stairs. Because she was left behind, most of the nations had already taken the elevator to the third floor. She had to walk since the elevator wouldn't come back down until all the nations were out. Which was a lot, and she figured that she would be faster walking.

She was really regretting it now. Any form of walking tired her excessively because she had to put more weight on her arms and lessen the pain in her feet.

Her feet.

When she was only less than a thousand years old, her feet were broken.

She didn't know why everyone stayed away from the girl. She was found in a forest, nurtured for the first few years in her life before being forced to work as a slave. Although many questioned why she didn't grow, she always said she didn't know.

They thought she was a curse. Then little accidents began happening all around the village. Her five year old looking self was trapped in a burning shed yet, she got out, some how. Her feet were bent and twisted and had burns though, because a plank had given away, crushing her feet under it. She had crawled out, slipping through a gaping hole, coughing and half dead. No, she had to be one minute away from death. One centimetre.

She was left to die, so she moved on to the next village, pretending she was a boy for the first one thousand years of her life. She was strong, yet many still thought she was a curse, although not knowing who she was when they were old and frail, she young and bright.

So she hid away from civilisation.

She soon discovered what she really was through dreams. They came to her every night, and it explained many things, such as why she always felt so many pinpricks and pains everyday, especially whenever there were wars between kingdoms.

Soon, the girl met others like her. There weren't many, but they were there.

People like Ancient Rome, Ancient Greece, Native America, Britannia and so on.

She was happy, because she finally found someone that could relate to her, but it did upset her a bit when they said they were treated like gods.

They never knew, or questioned why she limped and it wouldn't heal properly like it should have.

She didn't know either. Maybe because it was the hate from her own people while they were busy attempting to kill her.

Now, a few thousand years later it resulted in her with her walking problems. She insisted she didn't need a cane or anything, even when people that saw her suggested it. People that noticed that is.

To everyone else, she was just another nation. Just another like them.

They assumed it was her small stature and figure that she was so slow. They never noticed her limp either. Chun Yan was very much fast. If her feet weren't all mangled and useless, she bet she could best all of the other countries in a race. She could run forever, and she wanted to, but her pain always caught up. Like a dog after a bone, chewing on and never letting go. Stairs were always harder.

She enters the meeting room, held today in her very own capital.

She feels intimidated, her tiny figure that represented a large flourished country with respected culture, but she chose to ignore the fact that western countries looked upon her distastefully, thinking ill of her history.

What could she do? Nothing.

So she smiles brightly instead, trying to convince countries to buy her products and medicine. They continue on as yells and screams fill the room.

She soon returns to her office building, to sort things out for tomorrows meeting, sighing tiredly as another unprogressive meeting went through.

Her feet especially. She was too tired to register the pain that shot through her legs as she walked. It was normal. This time she takes the elevator up, smiling at her cute, cute plushies.

She sips tea, soon downing it whole, as she fills in some paperwork. She really needed to up her medicine sales a bit. She frowned.

Ah well. Time to go home.

And like every other day, all she could feel was tired and sore, most pain coming from her twisted feet.

She accepts.


End file.
